“Destroying the Earth is harder than you may have been led to believe.”
http://qntm.org/destroy
Fantastic (long) piece about the different ways to destroy the world.
Category: writing
Mashed Potatoes, the right way.
I tweeted on Thanskgiving “If your potatoes need gravy UR DOIN IT WRONG” so I wanted to follow it up with how to DO IT RIGHT.
The recipe, serves about 5 people:
- 7 – 10 washed potatoes, skin on or peeled
- 1 saucepan for the cream mix
- 1 large pot for boiling the potatoes
- 1 pint of heavy whipping cream
- 1 stick of butter (1/4 pound)
- Salt
- White Pepper
- 1 pinch of Nutmeg
Boil the potatoes until a fork can go almost through a potato and come out cleanly (if you cut the potatoes before boiling use the largest piece). Before the potatoes are able to pass the fork test, approximately 5 minutes before they are ready, combine the heavy whipping cream and the cube of butter in the sauce pan. Heat until the butter is melted. Drain the potatoes making sure to get all of the water out.
Begin to mash the potatoes (keep in mind mashing for too long or using an egg beater will break down the starches resulting in runny potatoes), once the potatoes are broken up, most of the potatoes still retain shape, pour about half of the melted butter, cream mixture into the potatoes. Mash until your potatoes reach the desired consistency resist the urge to use anything but a hand masher…in fact, I use a fork to better control the consistency of the mashed potatoes. If all of the mixture is not completely used, add to taste or put it to the side to add before refrigerating leftovers (make sure to mix thoroughly, the cold will make the starches contract absorbing lots of the moisture).
Add about 1 tsp of salt and 1/2 tsp of the white pepper, stir to distribute. Finally add a pinch of nutmeg, stir and serve.
Your potatoes should not need any gravy since you DID IT RIGHT.
The Road
THE ROAD
It stretches,
miles into nothing
A single point,
of tar and gravel
pulled into one tiny point
in the future
Since the tires,
Pull, like a treadmill
I sometimes wonder
how the men working
stay in the same place…or if they do?
The sun is hot,
as it filters through
the closed windows
the sky fades,
to orange
The moon is cold,
as it chills the glass
the sky turns,
black
The future becomes
the present
Nothing constricts
The tar and gravel
are pushed into
the present
Aching muscles
call my bed
the things
can wait
I am home
Lizard Lunging, Venture #2
A lizard is lunging back and forward on a rock. It has been years since I have seen a lizard, what a subtle un-looked-for surprise. Just sitting here watching the jerky movements that he makes as he looks for the shadiest place under the sage brush to lay.
Ever warily, he scans, right to left and back. He quickly moves under a branch of the bush when I shift sitting positions. Seeing him there, hiding, in the bushes takes me back to long days in the summer when I was a child.
As child I loved the outdoors one of my favorite past times was spending long hours riding my bicycle with my friend to his farm. The heat swept over me then as it does now, sweating long hours up to the farm 3 miles away. Some days we would get lucky and get to take his Dad’s four wheeler.
Once we were at the farm there was always a contest to see who could catch the most lizards without losing any pieces. As any lizard expert knows, they throw their tails when they are frightened to trick their predators. We, being bright children, were only tricked a couple of times.
The lizard moves back to a hole in the brush allowing me a better visual, I snap back. Things have changed, I no longer enjoy being outside the heat irritates me and reminds me of things I could be doing back in civilization.
I am surprised that my eyes are still sharp enough to, without glasses, see a lizard in the brush.
My Window to the World
The dense undergrowth covers the bottom of the sign. The uneven ground is littered with boulder size rocks, that press the foliage higher and higher in its never ending climb towards the sky. The sign is on the side of a great brick fortress that seems to grow in straight orangish, red lines from the rocky, uneven ground. The tree branches hang past the top of my window obscuring the sign even further so that there is just enough visibility to read “General Classrooms”.